


The Matchmaker

by DiYunho



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Joker - Fandom, Suicide Squad (2016), The Joker - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bane Dcu, Brother-Sister Relationships, Brotherly Love, Charming Family Feels, Drama, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Drama, Feelings, Feels, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Joker - Freeform, Post-Suicide Squad (2016), Strong Female Characters, Suicide Squad, The Charming Family, The Joker - Freeform, The Joker Jared Leto, The Joker Suicide Squad, The Joker fanfiction, The Joker imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 18:47:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15669111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiYunho/pseuds/DiYunho
Summary: If there’s something Bane loves on this earth more than mayhem, it would be his younger sister: you’ve been away for six years and finally returned to Gotham a few weeks ago. So many rumors about you out there and The Joker is about to find out if they’re true: he never met Y/N and he’ll finally have the pleasure at today’s meeting.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You can also follow me on Tumblr under the same blog name: DiYunho.

Barely entered the warehouse and you can’t take it anymore:

“Hold on, hold on!” you urge Bane to stop walking and you grab his arm for balance. “These stilettos are killing me!!” you take the high heels off your feet and toss them to the ground, annoyed.

“Told you not to wear them,” your brother scoffs, not understanding why his sister keeps on torturing herself with the stupid shoes.

You ignore his observation and snap at one of the goons marching behind:

“Nixx! Go back to my van and bring me my comfortable sandals!”

The young guy gulps and has the nerve to ask:

“The green ones or the red ones?”

Oh, Lord have mercy!!!! That is the wrong question; you instantly lose it:

“Look at my outfit! How is green supposed to go with this??!!! The red ones!!!! Alright? The red ones!”

“So sorry Y/N,” the young man apologizes and rushes out of the building, hoping he’s not going to get on your bad side today.

“I’m surrounded by idiots…” you mutter and continue to walk barefooted towards The Joker and all the people gathered for the meeting.

The King of Gotham sees your group approaching and since you’re still quite far away, he whispers:

“Is she missing an eye?”

“No sir,” Frost swiftly replies.

“What’s with the eye patch then?!” a puzzled Joker needs to find out.

“She’ll tell you if you ask sir,” Frost straightens his shoulders, reckoning it’s not safe to continue the conversation because you’re only a few steps away now.

Bane and The Joker nod at each other in acknowledgement, your brother taking a sit at the table next to you.

“This is my sister Y/N,” he shortly introduces the dolled up woman, immediately after starting to talk to the mercenaries that gathered around, waiting to see if they’ll be hired for his future projects.

“You sure are a sight for sore eyes Mister J,” you smile and continue: “I have to admit those pictures posted on FBI’s Most Wanted website don’t do you any justice.”

Bane kicks your foot under the table as a sign to stop your shit.

“Thank you sugar,” The Joker smirks, pleased with the compliment.

“It’s true honey,” you seductively bite your lip and Bane discretely elbows you, signaling his sibling to cut it out already.

Nobody can tell, but Frost is actually praying.

Please don’t bring it up, please don’t bring it up, please don’t bring it up, please don’t…

“Frooost,” you softly chuckle, interrupting his thoughts. “I was so busy I didn’t have time to properly thank you for the flowers and necklace you sent me last week. “

“You’re welcome, Y/N,” Jonny take a deep breath, holding in his anxiety. J turns towards the bodyguard, intrigued: he had no idea about that and he sure likes to know everything.

You sneaky bastard, The Joker thinks and Frost can guess by the look on his boss’s face; takes a lot of effort to keep ones cool in these extenuating circumstances, yet Jonny manages to do so. After a few seconds, The Clown Prince of Crime switches his attention again.

“That eyepatch is very classy,” J directs the conversation towards the desired subject.

“Oh, thank you honey. I have to wear it,” you sigh, shamelessly checking him out.

“Something wrong?” he lifts his inexistent eyebrows, grinning.

“Not at all, honey. I’m just very beautiful and if any man sees me in all my glory, he will hopelessly fall in love and I will have to break his heart with a rejection. I have to cover up some part of my face in order to protect the opposite sex from total annihilation: it’s a terrible burden that runs in the family,” you continue to explain, playing with your long hair. “As a gorgeous person yourself, I’m sure you understand.”

“Beauty is a curse,” J agrees, intrigued and pleased with the woman’s statement.

“Take my brother for example,” you point towards Bane that’s loading a new gun prototype handed over by one of the mercenaries. “He’s very handsome and the fact that he has the breathing mask is a blessing in disguise: women would just lose their minds to see him without it. A true hero, performing a public service for the ladies’ own safety.”

Bane is preoccupied with his task but also eavesdropping; you feel your exposed toes being gently stepped on by his heavy right boot as a sign to cut it out.

Nixx is finally here with your sandals and interrupts the conversation:

“I brought your shoes, Y/N.”

“Sure took forever, hm?” you admonish, yanking them out of his hands. The young man looks like a lost puppy so you take pity on him, changing the tone of your voice to a sweet one: “Thaaank you honey,” you wink and his cheeks turn red, definitely flustered since he adores you to the heavens and back.

“You…you’re welcome Y/N,” he stutters and reprises his usual spot behind Bane, heart about to explode because you called him “honey.”

As you put your sandals on, you casually glance around and suddenly gasp.

“Mister J, can I have a can of grape juice?” you reach your hand towards the two containers in front of him.

“Oh, you like grape juice too?” J pushes the requested item towards you.

“No, I don’t,” you snatch the can, aim behind him and toss it at one of the mercenaries, totally pissed: “Don’t look at my brother like that, you jerk!!!!!!!”

Everyone’s attention turns towards the man that yelps in pain, taken by surprise with the random action; now he has a beautiful bump on his forehead.

“He just had eye surgery two days ago, that’s why he’s blinking weird,” the guy next to him brings to your knowledge.

You instantly jump from your chair, appalled.

“Oh my God, honey!” you run towards him and force him to sit down on an empty chair. The dude is a complete brute, mid 40’s, three times your size and buff as hell but no match for Y/N’s charm.

“Awww, poor baby; lemme see,” you carefully study the tiny scratch then tightly squeeze his head to your cleavage.

“It’s nothing,” the muffled voice echoes, the man enjoying being pampered.

“My sister is a very caring person,” Bane justifies your action, lifting his broad shoulders up, super proud of your altruistic abilities. “She loves people.”

The Joker wants to say a few words and gets distracted by the commotion going on beyond his chair.

“Lucky asshole…” one mercenary behind him huffs.

“I know,” another one adds. “I would give everything I have just to be that can she held for a few seconds.”

“Me too!” a third one sighs.

“Count me in,” a forth one joins the conversation.

What the fuck is wrong with everybody?! J wonders, glaring at them with contempt.

“I think you need a band aid honey,” you search the pockets of your fancy red jacket and find one: Hello Kitty brand, perfect for the beast. The pain lingering on your face while unwrapping the bandage is only noticed by your brother; he has no idea The King of Gotham detected the emotion too.

“There we go honey,” you place the pink band aid on top of the small wound, kissing it afterwards. “Is this better?”

“U-hum,” the thug barely confirms, smitten with the woman he finds entirely fascinating.

“Perfect,” you giggle and return to your seat, the new suitor ogling a bubbly Y/N, sadly reckoning she’s out of his league, just like the rest of them.

The Joker can’t help himself:

“I know you warned me that I’m going to burn in the flames of passion, but is there a chance I can see your face without the eyepatch?”

Bane rolls his eyes, not wanting to comment even if he has plenty to say.

“Are you sure?” you hesitate, quite concerned with his request.

“Yeah!” the determination is enough to convince you.

“OK then, you asked for it,” you take a deep breath and remove your patch, carefully placing it in your pocket.

Several men gasp with admiration while J stares at you, evaluating the physical features:

“Say Bane, I think I’m in love with your sister now. Can I marry her?”

“No!” your brother grouchily cuts The Joker’s enthusiasm, wanting to get back to business after all the interruptions. 

“I’m sorry sugar, seems our relationship is doomed,” The Joker winks and you snicker, amused by his cheekiness.

“Mister J!” one of his goons shouts from the other side of the warehouse. “The shipment is here!!”

“I’ll be back,” The Clown Prince of Crime excuses himself from the gathering so he can inspect the trucks before bringing them in for the transaction.

“Finally!” your brother cracks his fists together, pumped up to put his hands on new guns and explosives.

“J is cute and funny,” you whisper so that only Bane can hear. “I think I’ll set him up with Trixie.”

“Please don’t start another project,” he begs, bringing your fingers to where his lips are: the kissing sound is heard, the mask making it impossible for your brother to really touch your skin.

“You know I’m a good matchmaker; I bet they can hit it off,” you rest your chin on his forearm, pouting.

That low growl coming from Bane states his opinion on the matter, his sister not giving a damn: she always does what she wants anyway.

**************

It took a week to convince The Joker, but you made it happen: he finally went on a date with your friend Trixie.

You were really surprised when she called you on Skype after only two hours, frustrated with how the evening went.

“Look what The Joker did! We were making out and he went crazy!” she keeps on complaining, showing you the hickeys and bite marks on her neck.

“Did you bite him back?” you snicker, eager to find out the details.

“Of course I didn’t!”

“Why not?!” you frown. “He’s probably on the wild side; he would have liked it!”

“Are you serious?! My neck’s a mess, people will think a grenade exploded in my face!” Trixie whines and it bothers you a lot. “I just asked him to take me home because I was in no mood to continue the date.”

You can’t believe your ears. Is she for reals?!

“You have no idea how to have fun, that’s why you’re still single!” you criticize her behavior, exasperated at your friend’s stupid reaction. “Don’t ask me again to find you a boyfriend!” and you hang up on her, panting with rage.

Of course J wasn’t happy with the events and it took you two weeks in order to convince him to go on another date, this time with your friend Nessa.

She called you back after just one hour, sounding like she ran the marathon.

“Jesus, Y/N, I thought I was going to die!”

“Why?! What happened?” you scream in your phone, exasperated.

“He kept on speeding on the streets like the devil!”

“Well that sounds like fun,” you interrupt to underline the obvious.

“Didn’t even pay attention to driving, he just laughed at how scared I was and glared at my boobs instead of looking at the road!” she blurs out. “I had to ask him to drop me off at my apartment. Shit, I’m lucky to be alive!”

Is Nessa a moron or what?! 

“You have no clue on how to have fun! That’s why you’re solo and you have the nerve to beg me to find you a boyfriend. I’m wasting my matchmaking talents on people like you!” a very infuriated Y/N yells, fed up with the nonsense.

Ugghh, J bitched about his failed dates for days and you had to listen to it. You didn’t think such a gorgeous guy like him would have trouble keeping a woman, but I guess he needs help. Thank God for your natural instincts and flair regarding this kind of stuff!

*************

“I think we need to update the pictures you have on FBI’s Most Wanted website, honey,” you adjust your eyepatch while The Joker is driving like a maniac on the streets of Gotham in order to make it to the late night meeting with your brother.

You stayed behind and specifically wanted him to pick you up, this way you can take care of some things.

“Why?” he grumbles, taking a sharp turn on 15th Avenue.

“It’s similar to a dating profile honey,” you let him know. “Those pictures are not very good: you look like you want to kill everybody.”

“I do want to kill everybody!” J emphasizes the truth.

“I get it, alright?” you are fast to agree,” but I can take new mug shots and have them uploaded on the website in one hour. I have a friend that can hack the system in no time and she’s single by the way,” you nonchalantly bring it up.

“I don’t like your friends, they’re stuck up!” the green haired pest hisses. “And I’ll think about the mug shots,” he decides to be lenient towards that suggestion. “Why are you wearing the eyepatch, sugar?” he changes the subject. “I already saw you without it and I’m in love,” he smirks. “No point in having it on.”

“Don’t be sarcastic,” you sigh, staring out the window. “You seem immune to my pheromones anyway, no need to deny it,” you pucker your lips, upset.

The Joker laughs and accelerates, enjoying the random conversation with the quirky Y/N: definitely different than any woman he met before.

“Oohhh, I wouldn’t say immune,” he winks and unravels those perfect silver teeth. “Let’s just say that I have some built in resistance. If you really must know though, I’m glad I am sitting down most times I see you, if you get my drift.”

“You mean it?” the suspicious tone prompts a cringe worthy chuckle from The King of Gotham.

“Would I lie to you sugar?”

“Hmmm… “ you debate on the reply and immediately realize you are close by one your favorite places in Gotham. “Can you please stop at Haru’s ice cream shop? They close in 15 minutes and I’m craving their ice-cream!”

“Make it quick!!” J mumbles. “We don’t need unwanted attention!”

He slams the breaks and you rush out of the car, stomping inside the ice-cream shop and cut in front of the other 6 people waiting in line.

“Hey lady, the line is over here!” an old man shouts.

“I don’t wait in line!” you slam 300 dollars on the counter, pointing towards the various tubs of delicious yumminess. “Two scoops of vanilla honey,” you sweetly smile and the 18 years old employee is familiar with everyone’s favorite customer that shows up on a weekly basis, leaves a huge tip and pays for the people’s ice-cream she’s cutting in front of.

The guy prepares your waffle cone under 20 seconds and as a reward you pinch his cheek, impressed:

“Thank you honey, aren’t you the cutest?”

The poor kid is about to faint as you exit the premises, yelling at the clients protesting your bold action:

“Shut up!!! I’m paying for your ice-cream!!!”

As soon as you are back in the car and J starts driving, you offer him a bite:

“You want some?”

“Nope, I prefer chocolate.”

“You should have said something; I would have gotten you a cone.”

Before he has a chance to answer, you have to bring it up since the pain is becoming unbearable:

“I don’t think I’ll make it to the meeting; these stilettos are killing me! Can you take me to Shoe Da’Zle on Stark Boulevard please? I need comfortable sandals, I can’t feel my toes anymore.”

“I think they’re closed already,” J correctly points out, racing towards Bane’s hideout.

“Yes, but it doesn’t matter: they do money laundering for my brother and expect me to drop by from time to time. All the foot wear exhibited in the showcase is my size: if I need something, I break the window and take what I want. The police thinks is a robbery, the insurance pays for the damage and they get coverage in the news, which boosts their sales. Everybody’s happy, including the most important person: me.”

The Joker snorts, not expecting the outcome of your explanation.

“OK Doll, but it’s the last stop, got it? I’m already late.”

“I swear it is honey,” a thrilled Y/N promises to the impatient driver.

*************

J barely recognizes his matchmaker when you open the door to the mansion you share with your brother: no makeup, wearing an oversized sweater, the hair gathered up in a very messy bun, eyes red and puffy from crying.

“Eyepatch, is that you?…” he tilts his head, confused.

“Bane’s out of town,” you sniffle, wondering why he’s at your house, not in the mood to have any type of company.

“I’m here for the money, sugar. For the transaction I agreed upon with your brother the other night,” he completes the statement since you sound lost.

“… … Shit, I forgot. Come on in, I’ll put the money together for you,” you sniffle and invite him inside. “You want a drink?”

“I’m good,” he follows you in the living room where you take out two suitcases from under the couch, trying to concentrate on what you’re doing but it’s hard.

The Joker notices a lot of pictures with a cute little girl scattered on the table; in most of them you’re present too, definitely related to her because the resemblance is obvious.

“Is she yours?” J hoovers over the images, asking mostly for the sake of conversation since you are quiet for once.

“Yes, that’s my daughter,” you strain to control your emotions and move money from one suitcase to the other, hoping to be alone as soon as possible.

“How old is she?” The Joker further interrogates, actually stunned at the revelation: he had no idea you have a kid. And he likes to know everything.

“She’s four today,” you bite your lip as hard as you can, avoiding eye contact.

“Well then, aren’t we going to celebrate?” he pushes the limit because it’s clear something is wrong.

“We can’t…I don’t have her…” the grieving mother hardly contains her pain.

“Is she dead?” the blunt question stops your motion and you glare at The Joker, heartbroken:

“I don’t know…I hope not…”

“What’s going on, sugar?” J demands an answer, more and more intrigued.

Your bottom lip quivers as you restart moving the money, struggling to focus on your assignment.

“Mia was taken from me six months ago…Her father didn’t want her and couldn’t stand the idea of being a parent so we broke up. Thank God, you know?… But he really hated her and… I…I was away just for one day and left her with my people. Somehow he passed security, snuck in my house and took her. I’m sure he hurt her… So I don’t know if she’s dead or alive… Bane is helping me search for them, that’s why I moved back to Gotham: it’s better if we stick together. My brother got another lead on my ex’s whereabouts in LA so he went to see if there’s any trace of them in that town. I have to stay here and supervise the organization.”

You pause and force a smile at the sweet memory you are sharing without realizing:

“My little girl can’t say Bane so she calls my brother Uncle Ben… Isn’t that funny?…Uncle Ben…”

The Joker takes a deep breath, picking a picture from the pile: your daughter is wearing a pirate outfit and matching eyepatch, enjoying playing outdoors.

“I can see the similarity,” he shows you the photograph.

Your eyes get teary and you can’t hold it in anymore:

“That’s her eyepatch I’m often wearing… because I miss my baby,” and you collapse on the couch, uncontrollably sobbing after admitting to the harsh reality.

J is silent and watches you until he loses patience; empathy is definitely not on his schedule, maybe just something remotely similar:

“Fuck, woman. You sure know how to ruin somebody’s day, hm?”

“What?” you wipe your face with the long sleeves, hoping you didn’t hear the words you think you heard.

“Come on, let’s go for a drive,” The Joker signals for you to approach and he’s refused.

“I don’t want to. Here’s your money,” you bend over and close the suitcase, sliding it next to him.

“Come on, let’s go,” he grabs the suitcase with one hand and your left wrist with the other.

“I don’t feel like going out,” you defend your solitude plans and J is not the considerate type.

“I don’t care: it’s just a drive, not a date. You can wear the garbage bag,” he nods towards your sweater, dragging you after him.

“It’s not a garbage bag,” you scoff at his rudeness and The Joker is pleased he distracted you since you stopped crying.

“What the hell is it then? I’ve never seen anything uglier in my life!” he waits for you to put your boots on before exiting the mansion.

“I bought it when I was pregnant with Mia…” you rub your swollen eyes and enter the purple Lamborghini.

“It’s atrocious!” he barks, waving at your henchmen to open the gates.

“I love it…” you gaze outside the open window, realizing it’s starting to rain. “It’s mine…and hers…”

************

You were so out of it you didn’t even realize you forgot your cell in your purse.

Fifteen minutes after your departure, the phone won’t stop ringing and the text messages from Bane keep on popping on the screen one after the other:

“Y/N, pick up!”

“Where are you?!!!!”

“Answer you phone!!!!!”

“Y/N, I found him!! Pick up!!!!”

“Mia’s alive, answer the goddamned phone!!!”


	2. Chapter 2

“Take a left here,” you tell The Joker and he turns, slowing down on the unpaved road leading to the safe house where Bane awaits with his crew and Mia. You keep on biting your nails, happy and anxious to see your little girl after six long months of thinking she might be dead.

It’s a three day drive to Los Angeles, but your brother traveled back towards Gotham, this way you can meet faster. When you didn’t answer the phone, Bane called the men appointed to guard the mansion in his absence and found out you left with The King of Gotham. J was immediately contacted and offered to accompany his matchmaker when the news about your daughter and ex was brought to your knowledge.

“I wonder if she looks the same…” you whisper, gazing ahead without seeing too much.

The Joker doesn’t reply, realizing you’re talking to yourself.

“Look, the trucks!” you point towards the convoy parked alongside the path leading to the cabin hidden inside Arden Forest. They are all marked with “Vanport Transportation” logo, a ghost company your brother uses when he needs to safely move around the country.

“Are we getting closer?” J asks, noticing a bunch of armed henchmen clearing the path when they realize it’s Y/N he has in the passenger’s seat.

“Yes, we’re very close; just a couple of miles to go,” you reply, getting more and more impatient.

After a few minutes, you see the cabin emerging from behind the trees and open the door, wanting to get out even if the car is still moving.

“Just wait,” J tries to stop you but your right foot is already out and he has no other choice but to halt.

You jump out of the SUV and run towards the cabin, not feeling the pain from the stilettos you’re wearing. Bane comes out to meet you, struggling to breathe since he has no mask on.

“Is she inside?” the worried mother inquires.

“She is,” your sibling affirms and you know him so well words are not necessary.

“How bad?…” you ask, not really wishing to hear what he has to say. Bane sighs, trying not to upset his younger sister more than she can handle.

“She has bruises…some older, some new; a black eye that’s almost healed, skinnier than she was last time we saw her. She was very hungry and we fed her. Anna gave her a much needed bath and clean clothes; Mia was scared, that’s why I took my mask off, so she can see a familiar face.”

“Did she recognize you?” you wipe your teary eyes, hoping for a positive reply.

“She remembered me,” he confirms and wants to reassure Y/N that everything is under control:

“We got her back, ok? My niece was abused and neglected, but she’s safe now. Richard carefully examined her, confirming that she’s alright.”

Bane coughs, wheezing louder and louder: he really needs the mask back on.

“Where’s your mask?” you caress his cheek, knowing how hard it is for him without the device that filters the air before getting to his lungs.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. I can make it a bit longer.”

Your eyes search around for The Joker and you notice he’s sitting on the hood of a blue Toyota, tired and cranky after driving for so many hours. A few of your brother’s men approached, probably to offer The Clown Prince of Crime coffee and whatever else he might need.

“I want to see him,” you lift your chin up, deciding to face your ex before reuniting with your daughter.

“This way,” Bane leads the way towards one of the trucks that’s perfectly sealed, not that the prisoner has any chances of escaping anyway. Your brother enters the code on the pin-pad and the door opens with a hissing sound.

Bane lifts you up in the truck, deciding to remain outside.

Your high heels click on the metal floor, the sound making Jax come back to his senses; he’s tight up on a chair, without shoes and shirt, biting on his mouth gag while defiantly staring you down. Bane wanted to kill him and barely contained himself from committing another murder, knowing how much his sister would love to confront the asshole herself.

“Why did you take my baby?” you stop in front of Jax, nothing else on your face besides disgust and hate.

He mutters something you can’t decipher, which prompts a revolted mother to continue:

“Why did you hurt her? Do you think anybody cares you don’t want to be a father?”

You bend over in order to be on the same eye level with him.

“Who the hell asked you for anything?” you pant, more and more enraged. “Why did you take Mia away from me? To punish her for being born?! How is that her fault, you son of a bitch?” and your voice dies out in a whisper: “She’s just an innocent little girl. “

More mumbling and you forcefully grab his face, digging your nails in his skin.

“I have questions, but I am not interested in your answers. Do you get it?”

He would probably like to say so many things, but that privilege is long gone.

“My brother can’t understand why I’m always torturing myself with these stilettos. The answer is because I hoped I will really get the chance to do THIS!!!” you shout and step on his left foot, the sharp high heel cutting through flesh, prompting him to wiggle and scream in pain. His mouth gag prevents the noise to resonate outside the temporary prison, the ruckus contained by the sound proof walls.

“Does it hurt?” you slap him as hard as you can, balancing your weight to inflict even more damage on the wound that’s getting deeper and deeper. “You hurt my helpless baby more.”

His hands are tight up in his lap and elbows confined to the back of the chair with thick rope, making it impossible for Jax to move. His thumbs are brutally bent backwards by the enraged Y/N until the snapping of broken bones is heard. He squirms and cusses in agony, saliva dripping down his chin: your ex-boyfriend resembles a rabid dog trapped inside a cage he can’t break.

“Does it hurt?” you hiss in his ear. “Not nearly what you deserve, I assure you.”

You pull out the bloody heel out of his foot, carefully considering your next action. His eyes follow you as you stomp towards Bane, signaling for his knife.

“And yet…you’re lucky you’re my daughter’s father,” you quickly return to his side, cutting the restrains around his ankles and elbows with the blade. “You have 40 seconds to get out of my sight.” Your face gets close to his and Jax squints his eyes, thinking you will slap him again. Instead, all he feels is your lips on his forehead as you encourage him to move:

“Run honey,” you calmly enunciate and he hesitantly gets up, limping until he jumps out of the truck, losing equilibrium and almost falling on his knees. Your brother makes way for Jax and so do the other henchmen on campus because they know there’s something going on and they shouldn’t interfere until further orders.

The Joker is still sitting on the hood on the blue Toyota, sipping on coffee.

Is that him? J wonders when he sees a man jumping from the truck you entered earlier, struggling to walk as fast as he can but he keeps on stumbling and looking back, panicking when he realizes your brother is pointing a gun at him. The wind carries your voice far enough for The Joker to hear some kind of countdown you’re shouting while taking your sandals off:

“31, 32, 33, 34, 35…”

The gun shot echoes in the stillness and the man collapses to the ground, certainly a goner since the bullet went through his brain in a split second.

“Clear up that mess!” Bane instructs his people, helping you down from the vehicle. The Joker watches you talk to your sibling for a few moments before sprinting towards the cabin, probably eager to finally meet your daughter.

*************

You tiptoe in the living room, calling out her name:

“Mia?…Mia?… It’s mommy, sweet pea. Mia?…”

You hear sniffling coming from behind the couch and she cautiously emerges from the hiding place, not sure on what to do.

“Mia, it’s mommy; come’ere sweet pea,” you carefully approach and her tiny feet thumping on the hard wood floor make your heart beat faster.

“Mooomyyyyy,” she whimpers and races in your opened arms, giggling when you lift her up and hug her tight, not believing you’re holding your baby again.

“Oh my God,” you cover her in kisses, upset to spot the bruises Bane was talking about. “I missed you so much,” and you continue to peck her face, especially the black eye that’s still healing. “Mommy missed you,” you repeat and want to check if Mia still knows the answer:

“Who’s mommy’s little angel, hm?” you ask, touching her nose with yours.

“Me,” the squeaky voice admits and Mia cups your face with her small fingers, enjoying her mother’s affection.

How can somebody hurt something so pure? The thought makes you cringe, yet you keep the wide smile on your lips, grateful your child is alive.

“That’s right, you are. Such a smart girl, you remembered,” you turn around and walk towards the exit, Mia cuddling to you even more. You lift her higher in your arms, not feeling the weight of the sweet burden you carry, not sensing the sharp stones under your bare feet once you’re outdoors again.

*************

“Let’s be quiet, ok?” you go on the other side of the king size bed where The Joker is already sleeping, helping your daughter get in the middle.

Bane has one of the trucks set up as a mobile bedroom he can use on long hauls, this way he can rest while on the move. You, Mia and J are using it while being taken back to Gotham, totally drained and running on fumes after being awake for countless hours.

You crawl under the covers, snuggling with her.

“Do you know your birthday was two days ago?” you gently caress Mia’s hair and she yawns, having no clue about it. “You’re four years old now, sweet pea.”

“Four?!” she shows you three fingers because that’s what she’s used to.

“One more,” you whisper, teaching her the correct way to display the number. “Mommy will buy you lots of toys and cake to celebrate, anything you want, alright?”

“Toys?!” she gasps.

“Yes, so many, just for my little angel.”

She rubs her eyes, yawning again.

“Let’s go to sleep, sweet pea. Wake me up if you need to go potty or if you’re thirsty, yes?”

“U-hum,” she closes her eyes, listening to the song you’re humming.

J woke up a few times because Mia cried in her sleep and he heard you soothe your daughter throughout the night.

“Sssttttt, mommy’s here…don’t be scared, it’s just a bad dream…”

The tiny fists clenched to your t-shirt, then relaxed under your touch.

“My precious angel,” The Joker distinguished his matchmaker’s words before plunging back into nothingness.

**************

He opens one eye and closes it back when Mia sticks her tongue out, ignoring the attention she seeks. She keeps on staring at him, smitten by his physical appearance and slides on his side of the bed because shyness doesn’t run in your family, no matter the age.

“Wha’s your name, hm?” she softly yanks on his pillow.

“Jay,” he mumbles, hoping she’ll go back to sleep.

“Jake?” she squeaks, pocking his star tattoo.

“Jay,” he reinforces the moniker.

“Hmmmmm,” Mia makes that cute sound you love when she’s debates on things. “I got boo-boo,” her little finger with a barely-there cut almost reaches The Joker’s lips.

“She wants you to kiss it to make it better,” you stretch, woken up and amused at the silly conversation.

How is The King of Gotham supposed to know about that stuff?!

“Here, let mommy do it,” you pull her back in your arms, kissing each finger multiple times. “Better?” you kiss the tip of her nose.

She nods a yes, her attention turning towards the enchanted green haired companion.

“Jake, you want beckfast?” Mia rolls over near him again, her piercing green eyes meeting the icy blue gaze belonging to The Clown Prince of Crime.

“Breakfast sounds good, Pest,” he growls, displeased she’s not getting his name right.

“Nooooo, my name is Mia,” she corrects him and pouts; you burst up laughing because she doesn’t understand his sarcasm. “I’m four!” she adds, showing three fingers.

“One more, sweet pea,” you remind her and another tiny finger shoots straight up in the air to make up for the difference.

“Ugghh,” J covers his head with the blanket, not in the mood for anything. He’s not a morning person, that’s for sure. “How far are we from Gotham?”

“Only a couple of hours away. The convoy has been moving since yesterday so it’s not far. My brother is driving this truck, that’s why you can barely tell we’re in motion: he’s an excellent driver.”

“Wake me up when we get there,” it’s his way of letting the girls know he’s done with the discussion.

******************

After a week, The Joker stops by the mansion because you have some dating prospects for him but he isn’t aware of your plans yet. He would probably just say no if you text or call him about it so meeting face to face is better. Everyone’s in the kitchen since you are cooking dinner: Bane’s favorite - Calamari pasta in white wine sauce.

“What are you doing with all this crap?” J points out towards the various flower vases and expensive presents scattered all over the place sent over by your numerous admirers.

“I like the flowers so I keep them, but the gifts I don’t need: I usually donate everything,” you lift Mia up on a high chair between her uncle and The Joker.

“My sister is an excellent cook, a perfect mother and a saint,” your brother states with such conviction there is no room for any type of doubt. 

“Uncle Ben, I want water pwease,” Mia whines and The Joker snorts because it sounds funny.

Bane helps her drink from the sippy cup, fixing the bow in her ponytail also and wants to retaliate for J’s reaction when the charming Y/N avoids conflict at the last second.

“Say honey,” you cheerfully get The Joker’s attention and distract your brother from the rant he’s about to start, “you need a perfect girlfriend and I have two words for you: Poison Ivy. I can make a date happen tomorrow.”

“I don’t like her!!!” J frowns and the smile freezes on your lips.

“Why not?!” you sulk because she already texted she’s interested in him.

“She tried to kill me last year!” he snarls, adamant in not accepting your perfect match proposition.

Your cell vibrates while receiving a text message from Alaina, your back-up plan in case it doesn’t work with Ivy.

“Is he circumcised?”

Your eyes get big, not believing what you’re reading. You look at The Joker, then back at your phone, then at him again, undecided if you should laugh or get angry at the useless question.

“How the hell should I know? Why does it matter??? He’s a good catch,” you text back.

“I only date guys that are. Can you ask him?” the reply follows and you scoff, reckoning the two of them getting together will probably end up in a complete disaster if she blurs out something dumb he’s not gonna like.

“You’re stupid!!!!!” is the last sentence you type before blocking Alaina’s number.

Why is it so difficult to find him a woman?! Your matchmaking aptitudes are surely put to the test with this difficult project of yours.

“Dammit!” Bane checks his phone and jumps from his seat, annoyed with the message popping on the screen. “I gotta go!”

“Where are you going?” you shout, disappointed at the sudden emergency.

“The shipment in San Diego is compromised; I have to go and see if I can save whatever is left before FBI messes up the whole operation. I’ll return as soon as I can,” your brother grabs a huge backpack from the pantry. “You’re the boss, ok?” he leaves you in charge again even if it’s not your favorite job on the planet. Your brother winks at his niece and she drops from her chair, wanting to follow him but you signal her not to.

“Be careful!” you have time to say before he’s out of the house and you discern his deep voice barking instructions at his henchmen before the sound of engines takes over.

Mia goes in the living room, searching around for her doll and you chit chat with J since you can’t leave the kitchen yet.

“How often do you have to dye your hair, honey?” you check on the oven to make sure the garlic breadsticks are not burning.

“I don’t; it just grows like this after the Ace Chemicals incident.”

“Does it really?!” the surprised Y/N instinctively turns around to gaze at the neon green locks.

“Yeah.”

“You know what’s awesome? Since your genes were obviously modified, I think that if you decide you want children, there’s a very high possibility they’ll have green hair.”

“You think so sugar?” J suddenly gets interested in your idea because he never thought about that.

“Yes, I do. They would be so cute,” you snicker just thinking how adorable a green haired baby would be. “Do you have any plans tonight, honey?”

“Nope,” a bored Joker sighs.

I mean, he was kind of thinking about robbery, but then you invited him for dinner and that sort of ruined the mood for chaos.

“You can stay with us if you want to,” you offer since your daughter seems to like him and she needs to be distracted after her ordeal. “We have 7 spare bedrooms in here, you can use one. After we eat, we’ll watch cartoons until she falls asleep. Nothing fancy.”

“Might as well,” The Joker approves the suggestion, prying in your personal affairs a bit. ”How come you don’t have a date or anything? Pick one of the guys that keep on sending you gifts. You have plenty to choose from: seems half of Gotham’s male population is in love with Bane’s sister.”

“My affection is to be earned, not to be expected because I am being sent lavish presents. Do you know none of them bothered to actually come and ask me out in person?”

“That’s because you’re intimidating,” J huffs, teasing his matchmaker.

“No I’m not!” you defend yourself.

“You’re very beautiful and beauty is intimidating. As an extremely handsome person myself, trust me, I know.”

You want to continue the discussion but your daughter comes back in the kitchen with a framed photograph she found, impatient to show J.

“Jake, Jake! Look! I was in here,” she places her finger on the image depicting a very pregnant Y/N.

“Why does she keep on calling me Jake? How is that easier than Jay?!” he complains, addressing the delighted mother.

“She just turned four,” you give him the best explanation there is. “She’s gonna call you whatever is easier for her, just like she calls my brother Ben.”

“I was in here,” Mia jumps up and down, hyper her Jake is paying attention.

“Were you?” he lifts his non existing eyebrows.

“U-hum, in here,” she pokes at your tummy in the picture, happy to share on what you told her so many times. The frame slides off her grasp and smashes on the floor, shards broken at The Joker’s feet.

Your daughter jumps, scared about what she did.

“Are you ok? “ you come around the table to make sure she doesn’t step in the mess.

Mia looks absolutely terrified as you approach.

“What’s wrong, sweet pea?” the concerned mother rushes to hold her because she’s shaking like a leaf. Your daughter covers her face with her tiny arms, starting to cry.

“No mommy, no!”

Your heart sinks when you realize she’s afraid you’ll hit her just like her father did after she was kidnapped.

“Oh, my poor love bug,” you hug her tight, trying to calm a child tensely shivering in your embrace. “Mommy would never hurt you, don’t you know that? It’s totally fine, it was an accident. It’s ok, don’t be scared,” you kiss her temple while she’s sobbing on your shoulder, hugging you back.

The Joker is not crazy about the crying; it needs to stop.

“Give her here,” he pats the table in front of him and you’re hesitant to fulfill the request. “Come on, put her here,” he moves the empty plate to the side, making room for Mia.

She keeps on whimpering and you hold her hand, not guessing on what he wants to do.

“Why are you crying, hm?” he interrogates the little one. “ I break into banks all the time, do you see me crying about it?”

How can a four year old understand the subtle connection? Where is he going with this?!

She rubs her eyes, wanting to go back in your arms when J swiftly pushes the empty plate to the edge of the table until it falls to the ground, the exquisite porcelain shattered to pieces.

“See? I break things too. So? Why cry about it?”

Mia’s mouth opens in awe, sniffling and curiously glaring at the broken item.

“Here,” he pushes his empty cup of tea towards her, “you break this one.”

She looks at you for approval and you nod a yes before she does it. My God, that innocent smile flourishing on her face is worth the world to you!

“See? It’s fine. You can break things, nobody cares Pest,” The Joker concludes and you are so grateful for his unique approach that nothing else matters for the moment.

“My name is Mia,” she corrects him again and you snicker, carrying her in your arms towards the stove because food should be done by now.

***************

The Joker fell asleep on the couch in the living room, watching cartoons with you and Mia; something so monotonous was bound to do the trick. He has insomnia pretty often, but kids stuff on TV is the best sleeping aid he ever tried without even being aware.

Your daughter is napping in your arms, her legs in J’s lap. She kicks him from time to time, probably dreaming about her pink unicorn again.

“Brat…” he mumbles in his sleep, not moving though because you’re cuddled to him and it feels nice and warm. 

A very unconventional small gathering, also known as Jake, The Matchmaker and The Pest.


End file.
